That’s a lie; in reality, she’ll wake up with a dry mouth and headache, so I’ll have a bottle of water and ibuprofen ready for her.
“You… you—” she swallows, eyes drooping, falling onto the bed. “Oh,fuck.”
“You’ll be fine,” I assure her. “Let it do its thing, Flame. I’ll look after you.”
She’s asleep by the time I finish talking.
I unbind her wrists, pull a pair of sweatpants from the duffle and dress her, then put extra-thick socks on her feet. I wouldn’t give her shoes even if I had any, but I also don’t want her to get cold.
Then, I pick her up, grab my duffle, and head out to the car.
Chapter Eleven
Ember
My chief advantage since being taken captive is Max’s insistence on underestimating me. I don’t know when he knew me or how long he knew me for, but clearly, he missed the phase of my life where everything that could go terribly wrong did. The years when constant abuse and torment led me to becomeextremelystreet-smart.
I’ve been microdosing myself with poisons, venoms, and sedatives since the first time Dagon poisoned my meal—not long after I’d recovered from my head injury. He didn’t give me enough to kill me, just enough to punish me when I pissed him off.
I spent a week vomiting and shitting blood, and writhing in agony while his soldiers urinated on me and laughed at me.
The next time he pulled that move was a year later. After dosing myself in steadily increasing increments, the dose Dagon gave me only gave me a mild fever and body aches. When his men tried to once again turn me into a urinal, I sliced one of their cock’s off and watched him bleed out.
Dagon gifted me a bottle of champagne for my progress. It’s still sitting in my designated room in his primary home, untouched. For all I know, it’s laced with the bubonic plague.
Whatever Max gives me is strong enough to put me to sleep, but only for a few hours. When I come to and force one eye open, I glimpse rows of fields outside the window. The moon is hanging high in the sky—I’d estimate I’ve been out for five, maybe six hours. Longer than I’d prefer, but shorter than Max would’ve assumed.
Max is in the driver’s seat. Vivaldi’sWinterfloats from the car speakers. He hums along to the tune.
He turns the car onto a dirt road… and that’s when I know I need to make a move,now. Whatever elusive destination he’s been referring to is near—I can feel it. I was out for too long. My limbs feel tired and uncoordinated, but I don’t let that stop me. My hands are untied, so I force my eyes open and reach over to grasp the steering wheel. We’re in a wooded area, and Max is going slow. This might be my last chance to escape, which makes me reckless.
I jerk the steering wheel to the left. Max shouts something unintelligible. The car veers off into the forest, and promptly slams into a thick oak tree with a sickening screech of metal. The airbags deploy—Max’s hits him square in the face, while I press myself back against my seat to avoid my own.
I reach for the doorhandle, open the door, and spill out onto the forest floor. Frost greets me, burning my palms. I’m not wearing shoes—only socks—and the sweatpants covering my legs aren’t thick enough to deter from the biting chill, but I don’t let that stop me. I stand, give my head a vicious shake to clear it, and stumble my way back to the road. My movements are uncoordinated; I’m actively fighting against whatever sedative Max gave me, and the battle is a losing one. Full-body exhaustion weighs me down, making me want to curl up on the forest floor to take a nap, but I persevere. If I can get to a main road, I can flag down a car,and—
Two arms wrap around me from behind, trapping me against a hard chest.
“Are youfucking kidding me?” Max’s voice hisses in my ear. “Totaling my car?Really,Ember?” He lets out a growl of fury. “You are justbeggingto be put in your place, aren’t you, Flame?”
“Let me go!” I mean for the words to come out as a shout, but much to my consternation, they’re barely a mumble. I’m hardly clinging to consciousness.
“How are you even fuckingawake?” Max hisses. “You should be out for double the time.”
He picks me up and hefts me over his shoulder. I summon whatever strength I can manage and drive my foot into his balls. He grunts, and his knees buckle. I start to fall from his shoulder, but rather than letting me hit the ground, he fallswithme, taking the brunt of the pain.
“Fuck,Ember!” he roars. “You gotta protect the family jewels, you’re gonna need them—”
I rake my fingernails down the side of his face, attempting to blind him. He instinctually shoves me off himself—bad move.
I’m barely halfway to my feet when he regains his bearings and catches me again—this time, for good.
He grips my waist and tosses me over his shoulder as though I weigh nothing. His grip on my thighs is steel, fingernails digging through the thin sweats and into my skin. He starts stalking forward, grumbling under his breath about me being a fucking headache, and occasionally throws out a promise to punish me.
Silly boy, I think sardonically.There’s nothing you can do that hasn’t already been done.
Past
Ember: 18
